


Dawn

by FanOfManyFictions (orphan_account)



Series: All That Came Before - Additions to Mighty of Arm and Warmest of Heart [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Jealousy, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-04
Updated: 2017-07-04
Packaged: 2018-11-23 11:47:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11401782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/FanOfManyFictions
Summary: Cullen receives unexpected news and an unexpected visit.





	Dawn

Cullen rubbed his tired eyes, sure that it was only a few hours away from sunrise. There he sat, in his office, in just his night pants, reading over orders, correspondence, letters from Orlais. The letters from Orlais became a judgemental pile on the corner of his desk, mocking him each time he sat down to attend to important matters. At this point, he read 16 marriage proposals from several of the lords and ladies of the land. All it did was make him think of her. It had been three weeks since that night in the war room, where he held her close to him. They awoke still wrapped in each other the next morning. He felt the emptiness and cool air when she lifted away from him, whispering apology and thanks before gliding out of the room. He saw little of her since. She busied herself with trivial Inquisition matters. _To busy herself, no doubt._

So, he returned to his own version of busying himself. He gathered another pile of dense parchment in front of him and began reading, pushing thoughts of seeing her, and holding her again, to the deep recesses of his mind.

_Dear Commander, You looked positively ravishing at the Winter Palace. The things I would do to you in private…_

Cullen blushed heavily. _Maker’s Breath, have they no shame?_

_Dearest Commander, There is no point in mincing words. I want you and will marry you if you’ll agree to…_

One by one he tossed the letters into a pile on the floor that would be used as kindling for campfires. Cullen celebrated when he found information from scouts, and he would even settle for a long report from Leliana. He moved quickly through each one that started with any pleasantries and only stopped to read those that seemed like they came from the Inquisition. His eyes stopped when he found a letter written in a familiar hand. _Mia._

_Cullen,_

_This is difficult to begin, so I’ll come right out with it. You know all of us fled to South Reach after the blasted sky ripped open, and I told you of mother and father._

Cullen took in a long breath, as he paused for a moment, thinking of his parents. He remembered his parents well. His mother was the most beautiful woman in the world to him as a boy, and only as an adult could he appreciate all of the ways his father would look at her. He would sneak out of the room he shared with Branson and night and find them holding each other, his father gently dragging his fingers through her honey blonde hair, whispering things in her ear. As a boy, he upturned his nose and stuck out his tongue before returning to his own bed. As a man, he understood that his parents were deeply in love. Picnics in the backyard, pretend sword fights with sticks, and his mother’s tears the day he left for Templar training were all memories that stayed with him.

_The other day, I was tending to baby George after a night of nearly no sleep. A timid knock came at the door, so light that I thought I imagined it. It came again. Being alone after Dyland’s passing has made your sister only slightly paranoid (and waking Branson for anything useful is out of the question since he sleeps like the dead). I grabbed a kitchen knife and headed to the door (how brave I am!). When I opened it I could only look at the person in the doorway for a moment before passing out (so much for bravery)._

_I awoke later to Rosalie sitting over me, asking if I needed anything. I shot up and told her what I thought I saw, telling her, “surely it must have been a dream.” Then he came into the room and sat at the edge of the bed like he used to do when I had a nightmare._

_The best way to say this, I suppose…Father is alive._

Cullen stopped at those words, scanning them repeatedly, burning a hole into the page with his stare. _Father is alive. Father is alive. Father. Is. Alive._

He did not see the rays of sunrise beaming through the hole in the roof of the quarters, nor did he hear the trumpet signaling the Inquisitor’s return. He stared at the page, swimming in disbelief, assuring himself that the words written on the yellowed page were true.

“Sorry to bother you Comm—I—Oh—You’re not dressed!”

Cullen looked up to find Serrine, recently burst through his office door, standing in the doorway with her back to him, wringing her hands behind her back. His mind still jostled by the recent news he just read could hardly cope with seeing her again, truly, for the first time in weeks. Noticing his silence, she slowly turned to find him standing there staring blankly past her, his face looking as though he saw a ghost.

“Are you alright?” she asked tenderly, walking slowly towards the desk. She could tell by his focused gaze he heard none of it. She rounded the desk and placed her hand on his arm. “Cullen…”

Cullen shook himself from his thoughts only to look down at his side and find her ash smudged face with eyes gleaming up at him. “Forgive me—I—“

“Has something happened?” she asked, removing her hand to lean against the desk, her eyebrows furrowing.

Cullen slumped back into his chair, pushing his disheveled curls back out of his face. _Alive. Father. Serrine._ It was all too much. Soon he felt warm tears rushing down his face.

“Cullen…” Serrine placed herself on his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. “It’s alright, whatever it is, it will be alright,” she whispered next to his ear.

Cullen’s body remembered itself, his arms wrapping tight around her small frame, pulling her into his chest. The leather straps of her armor were sure to leave impressions in his warm skin, as he cried into her shoulder.

Serrine remained mostly still, using one hand to stroke the back of his head lightly. She had no idea what happened but was glad for the chance to repay him the kindness that he granted her a few weeks ago. She felt his strong shoulders grow soft, trembling in her arms.

Cullen’s awareness of his present situation rushed back to him moments later, feeling her shift slightly on his lap. His eyes snapped up to meet hers.

“Inquisitor—I—we shouldn’t—Forgive—“

“Shh,” she whispered. She pulled his head back to her shoulder and squeezed him to her.

Cullen was sure at this point his whole body flushed, as he was growing hot beneath her. He cursed his body for its reaction and tried to focus. He lifted his head to rest his lips on the coarse leather of her vest, smelling the mixture of campfire and sweat from her night of riding. Several loose strands of her hair floated freely around her head, the bulk of it in a braid wrapped and pinned around her head. He just sat for a moment, breathing her in.

“Why did you come to me Inquisitor?” he asked quietly, shifting to let her know he wanted to stand. He instantly regretted it, missing the feel of her as soon as she broke away.

“What upset you Commander?” she challenged.

By the look on her face, he knew he would have to answer first. “I just saw a letter from my sister. She wrote to tell me that my—Our father is alive.”

Serrine’s face lit up, genuine excitement flooding her every delicate feature. “Cullen that’s incredible,” she breathed, denting dimples into her cheeks with a wide smile.

“Yes it is,” he replied, grinning back. “I apologize for my state earlier, I—“

“No need to apologize. They were happy tears, I imagine. You’ve seen me in a far worse state,” she mumbled directing her eyes at the ground.

Before his thoughts could talk him out of it, he approached her, one hand snaked around her waist and the other placed beneath her chin. The motion caught her off guard, by the surprised look on her face. It made him smile. “I have always seen you as—“

“Inquisitor, I heard you arrive and—“ Solas stood in the doorway frozen, watching the pair break from each other, the fine hairs on his body prickling at the Commander’s closeness to her, and his apparent necessity to be shirtless.

Serrine turned to the doorway, eyes wide, mouth agape, but no sound coming out.

Cullen glared at Solas, his hands forming into fists. “Solas, though I am sure your business with the Inquisitor is pressing, the manner in which you have interrupted this meeting is uncalled for,” Cullen muttered through gritted teeth. He watched Solas’ eyes land on her, looking for defense.

“I apologize for the abrupt intrusion, I have a pressing matter to discuss—“

Serrine put up her hand to stop him. “You and I no longer have anything pressing to discuss. Any information useful to our hunt of Corypheus can be passed along to our Spymaster,” she said coldly.

Cullen bit his tongue to stop himself from smiling at the wounded look on Solas’ face, and the straighter posture Serrine took at the end of her statement. He was unsure if his presence affected her bravery in this moment, but he was glad to witness it. Solas turned without another word and departed. Serrine turned back to Cullen, a satisfied grin on her face.

“Now, what was your business here, Inquisitor?”

Serrine sighed. “We can discuss it later, I think I have had enough excitement for one morning.”


End file.
